Artesian Well
In the feathergrass steppe
Sources lie buried,
The thirsty sun knows
Life isn't raspberries.
In barren haymeadows
A child tarries,
Walnut crosier
Outstretched, gold-eyed,
The bracing treasure,
Slender, streams.
They bubble deep,
Both song and splashes, -
In the live coppice
An April peal.
More wondrous than God's lightning bolts,
The artesian well fills
The sham spays' dry dugs
With love's hypogean milk.
poem by Mikhail Alekseevich Kuzmin
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Related quotes
Buried Treasure
Now if the aim in your life is to settle me down I couldn't change my point of view
I got a lady in red at the back of my head but the woman in white is you
Do you wanna be the only one, fade away in the mornin' sun
I could love you all of my life, you are my wife, haven't I let you know-ow
We don't need no buried treasure, no buried treasure, we don't need it
We don't stand on ceremony but life is phony in spite of it
You can never be all you wanna be when you're searchin' for gold
We don't need no buried treasure, I've still got you (still got you, still got you)
I've still got you in my sou-ou-oul
Well it's a long way down and you gotta get up, you gotta figure on a master plan
You couldn't do it, if you don't get ready, you'll be beaten by the other man
Do you wanna be the last one in, play the game that you just don't win
I can see me makin' you cry, sayin' goodbye, but I could never let you go-o
We don't need no buried treasure, no buried treasure, we don't need it
We don't stand on ceremony but life is phony in spite of it
You can never be all you wanna be when you're searchin' for gold
We don't need no buried treasure, I've still got you (still got you, still got you)
I've still got you in my sou-ou-oul
Well you're takin' my life in the palm of your hand, make you mine for another day
Ain't nobody doesn't need anybody when the good times turn away
I don't wanna be the lonely one, fade away in the evenin' sun
I could love you all of my life, you are my wife, haven't I told you so-o
We don't need no buried treasure, no buried treasure, we don't need it
(Baby we don't need i-i-it)
We don't stand on ceremony but life is
song performed by by Kenny Rogers
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Buried Treasure
Now if the aim in your life is to settle me down
I couldnt change my point of view
I got a lady in red at the back of my head
But the women in white is you
Do you wanna be the only one
Fade away in the morning sun
I could love you all of my life
You are my wife
Havent I let you know
We dont need no buried treasure
No buried treasure - we dont need it
We dont stand on ceremony
I love you only - Im proud of it
You can never be all you wanna be
When youre living for gold
We dont need no buried treasure
I still got you
I still go you in my soul
Well its a long way down and you gotta get up
You got to figure on a master plan
You couldnt do it if you dont get ready
When youre beaten by the other man
Do you wanna be the last one in
Play the game that you just dont win
I can see me making you cry
Saying goodbye
But I could never let you go
We dont need no buried treasure
No buried treasure - we dont need it
We dont stand on ceremony
I love you only - Im proud of it
You can never be all you wanna be
When youre living for gold
We dont need no buried treasure
I still got you
I still got you in my soul
Well youre taking my life in the palm of your hand
Make you mine for another day
Aint nobody doesnt need anybody
When the good times turn away
I dont wanna be the lonely one
Fade away in the evening sun
I could love you all of my life
You are my wife
Havent I told you so
We dont need no buried treasure
No, buried treasure - we dont need it
We dont stand on ceremony
I love you only - Im proud of it
You can never be all you wanna be
When youre living for gold
We dont need no buried treasure
I still got you
I still got you in my soul
song performed by by Bee Gees
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Bubble In My Heart...!
There's a bubble in my heart
A bubble that floats
Like it is made out of soap
There's a bubble in my heart
A bubble that dance
Like it is riding on the breeze
A bubble a bubble in my heart
A bubble a bubble that fills my heart
There's a bubble in my heart
A bubble that sings
Like it knows how to sing
There's a bubble in my heart
A bubble that roams
Out of my heart in to the storms
A bubble a bubble in my heart
A bubble a bubble that fills my heart
There's a bubble in my heart
Baby can you see that
Yeah the bubble in my heart
There's a bubble in my heart
A bubble that shines
Much more than sunshine
A bubble a bubble in my heart
Yeah baby, there is a bubble, a bubble in my heart....!
poem by Rowving Smith
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Uproar and after math for M'lady Catrina
The thunder growls and threatens war.
Storm clouds parade in massed array
and fierce blue bolts of lightning soar
To try and drive the clouds away.
Just for a moment all is still
The clouds appear prepared to fight.
The lightning bolts strike where they will
and pierce the clouds with spears of light.
The clouds disgorge much needed rain
upon the thirsty earth below
The fields will soon be green again
and once again the streams will flow.
The storm has passed it has moved on.
The air is feeling cool and clean.
But for damage which it has done.
You would not know the storm had been.
Though summer storms strike suddenly
it’s very seldom that they last
They pass over just as quickly
and are forgotten very fast.
Flash floods and overflowing drains
will be remedied speedily.
The storm provided much needed rains
the earth accepted greedily.
We should be grateful not complain
But being human we will do
We lose much less than what we gain.
The fruitful earth will bloom anew.
02/07/2009
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Honest Questions
Can you see
Honest questions in my heart this hour
opening like a flower
To the rain?
And do you know the silent sorrows
of a never ending journey
through the pain?
Do you see a brighter day for me?
Another day?
A day?
Do you wonder what's in store for me?
The cure for me?
The way?
Oh look down 'n see the tears I've cried
The lives I've lived
The deaths I've died
But you've died them too
And all for me
and you say (faded)
"I will pour my water down
upon a thirsty barren land
and streams will flow from the dust of
your bruised and broken soul
You will grow like the grass
upon the fertile plains of Asia by the streams
of living water,
You will grow, Oh, You will grow"
Do you know
The story from the start?
and do you know me
like you've always told me?
Do you see
the whispers in my heart against your kindness
my eternal blindness
Do you see?
Do you see a brighter day for me?
Another day?
A day?
Do you wonder what's in store for me?
The cure for me?
The way?
Oh look down see the tears I've cried
The lives I've lived
The deaths I've died
But you've died them too
And all for me
and you say (faded)
"I will pour my water down
upon a thirsty barren land
and streams will flow from the dust of
your bruised and broken soul
You will grow like the grass
upon the fertile plains of Asia by the streams
of living water,
You will grow, Oh, You will grow"
"I will pour my water down
upon a thirsty barren land
and streams will flow from the dust of
your bruised and broken soul
You will grow like the grass
upon the fertile plains of Asia by the streams
of living water,
You will grow, Oh, You will grow
song performed by by Daniel Bedingfield
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Thirsty Souls
Everyone has a thirsty soul, a driving force to make man whole,
To fill that spiritual side of man, being part of the Creator’s plan.
Everyone who truly does thirst, truly must seek the Creator first,
He’s the only one able to fill, souls according to His eternal will.
Filling us with the Spirit of God, sent down upon all earthly sod,
To dwell in the soul of all of us, who in the Lord place their trust.
God brings us first to His Son, the Lord and Savior of everyone,
Then God fills you day by day, as you walk in life’s Narrow Way.
Out from a dry and barren land, He guides us with a loving hand,
To God’s Eternal River of Life, our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.
God takes a soul, once aloof, into the Word, God’s Eternal Truth,
And He fills the soul as they read, making changes as they heed.
Christ fills us beyond our need, as God’s Spirit, we allow to lead,
Upon The Rock we take a stand, as we go to the Promised Land,
The Rock, from where water flows, to the souls the Father knows,
The Living Water from above, provided through the Savior’s love.
God shall fill the souls of men, who in Christ become Born Again,
Come to Him and thirst no more, by Jesus Christ the Living Door,
Who fills thirsty souls of men, in ways which only the Creator can,
As He fills their souls spiritually, preparing them for Life Eternally.
(Copyright ©06/2008)
Mother and Child
On one of the back benches in church
I see a young girl
unbuttoning the top of her blouse
with slender white fingers
to let her baby drink.
His sleepy blue eyes opens
and his small lips suck
on a swollen nipple
and mother and child
is framed into my mind
like the painting of the Madonna
and milk streams into him
while the congregation sings.
She gazes as through time
with uplifted head,
giving him power, the love of God
as if fixed to the spot while praying
and giving him milk.
She tenderly touch the baby
with every movement
echoing great love
and he settles sleeping
and a smile of tranquillity
is on her face.
poem by Gert Strydom
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A Swan Song(dying sentence)
Remember me, remember my swan song,
I can't re-orient myself,
I can't live it all over again,
I can't re-orient myself,
I can't live that stain of my plastered smile again,
Let this be the last moment,
Let me say the last good-bye,
It won't count anything now,
So let me lay in silence,
Life has treated me well and I have had enough of it,
Lets end this game,
Enough of milling in and out,
Hear my swan song,
And let this end now,
I need to be away,
away from these thorns,
far far away,
Where you'll only see my memories,
my shadows,
my untold stories buried after me,
and my last swan song,
Hear my swan song,
I feel like a fish out of water,
from pillar to post,
fallen back upon,
Let me be buried under sand,
let me give my final test,
I'll never return, its time to sing,
sing my last swan song,
Hear my swan song,
maybe this moment or the other,
my soul would rest in peace,
before disappearing,
let me sing,
sing my swan song,
I only remember now the memory lived in me,
a perfectly encapsulated morsel,
of a good past,
from piebald brush strokes swaying,
to barren now, that I'd become,
As I'll say my last goodbye,
hear my swan song,
because now you'll never hear my voice again,
for ever and ever and ever...
Written on 5/6/11
poem by Ayesha Riaz
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Conversation
Dad, I believe that you are resting where you are
that you are unaware of everything
as if you are only sleeping
but sometimes it feels
as if you are aware of my whole life,
then I wish that you could read my verses
as you were living for Afrikaans
and it was as if poems were in your blood
and I am wondering what you would have thought,
would have said as I am writing
every poem in English as well,
that it is the Scottish blood running true?
Sometimes when I see lightning bolts
trailing white blue down to earth,
getting the smell, almost like sulphur
where a thunderbolt falls
I am unafraid form being a child
and it’s as if I hear the voice of God
as if you are also near
like when I was a toddler
taking my hand in yours
and then I could not comprehend
that they were putting you in the cold earth,
it was if you had just left by your own will
which is a really strange thing
as you were truly in love with mom,
loved me and my younger brother
as if you would give your life for us
and when I go to your grave in the hillocks
at Heidelberg, at times I am dumb
as if an old pain
comes into my heart
and again I want to
walk into the hillocks with you
to gather protea flowers for mom
to give them to her in a glass vase
to together stand on the porch
while lightning bolt after lightning bolts
falls exploding form the sky,
to get the smell
of the first drops that are falling.
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Bubble Of Life Floats and Flies!
I am that bubble
On that infinite ocean,
I know I am eternal,
except that fills the bubble!
I am that infinite
One of infinite thoughts of the infinite!
Infinite filled breath into infinite bubbles,
I am one of these
Each day he transcends on Earth!
He is her great lover,
She is his fertile wife,
More fertile ones he has.
Everyday she becomes pregnant,
Everyday she breeds billion bubbles of billion species,
Some with brain and some without,
Some with hearts and some without,
But every bubble she breed, are with stomach,
hunger and thirst
Anger and lust
This was mechanical
Till they decided to breed which are their own copy,
With all capacity to understand parents,
Then that came the species of bubbles
Which can see back!
And more than understand,
This lovely child stared weeping on arrival,
Making others happy!
when bubble grew up,
Understood parents,
Sister bubbles
Brother bubbles
Dictating mother,
But not the father,
Mother is soft and caring,
Felt for children and fad them with the best,
When sons Grew, sometimes taller
Than Father,
Started to say I know mother,
I don't know, whether I have father,
Since father was hiding in everyone, who filled his own breath inside these bubbles,
He was helpless when ignorant bubble say there is no ocean,
When bubble learns,
All is his,
Understand what is what,
But for that bubble, jumping and dancing,
With that nuclear arms in his arms,
when adam had Eve in his arms,
Eve had serpent to seduce,
Man made parents stay apart!
the stay apart, still not divorced,
When the divorce, bubble bursts,
But bubble when tries,
To live, it may burst,
When it wants to burst it may live,
This is what we enjoy
And call as life
poem by Ramdas Bhandarkar
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My Love For You
My love for you,
is buried deep
in my heart
no one can dig
it out.
No power on earth
can take away how
I feel toward you.
You mean more to
me, than all the
riches of the world
My love for you
I would not trade
all of the kingdoms
put together.
No friend is greater,
no love is so stronger
my heart reaches out
to bring you closer to me.
You put up with me,
much more than I
deserve, only makes
me love you even more.
So dear, how love flows
your way, don't know
how I could live
without you in my life.
No man could have it
so fine as I do,
with you by my side.
Loving you so, until
that day you or I
depart from this
old world, will keep
your love buried
deep in my heart.
wrote 2-2-07
To Live You Must Forgive
A man that has the power
To take a living breathing soul
Leaves you lonely, barren and bare
That eats away at your soul
You know not how to handle
The agony you feel
So you bury it deep down inside
Thinking you'll never live or feel
The years go pass and hidden
The agony and pain
It turns into hatred
That breaths darkness in your soul
When consumed with this hatred
Life becomes a living hell
You believe you're unable
To live and breathe again
So living like a zombie
You live from day to day
Barely surviving a life you hate to live
Consumes you everyday
But then you’re told to live once more
You need to forgive the wrong been done
At first you think is this joke
To forgive the man that buried my soul
That fateful day so long ago
At first you deny the truth
Still carrying hatred deep within
Then finally you realize
To live you must forgive
poem by Kaila George
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Bacelli’s Walnut Tree
Bacelli’s Walnut Tree
Not far the corner of my home's knee
Just some yards above the road
Stands on its glory the Big Walnut Tree
Branched right and left over the road
As the years jump on line and the clock ticks
I can see through the epochs and curtain blinds
Babies being born, marriages, deaths, wars and miseries
Misfortunes and happiness experienced by Bacellis
This Big Walnut Tree, the old sincere angel
The witness so fair for a hundred years.
I often come back to this Walnut Tree
I kneel and pray in silence
As a great grandmother in need
I ate the tasty nuts of this tree
As my father, my pop did once
All of them fellows Bacelli
Yes, indeed my sons will try them too
My granddaughters and grandsons
The Walnut Tree fetches, embraces all generations
Keeping inside the live ones and protecting the dead Bacellis
When my father was gone and buried
The Walnut Tree joined me in grieving
Fruit stalled, tears dropped
No leaves, no flowers, no nuts, all disappeared
The Walnut Tree nearly did perish
It dried and vanished like a storm turning greyish
Other times the Big Walnut Tree shed tears
Three times, when Bacellis' house scorched on skies
Humbled disappearing fast through sparkling fires
The Big Walnut Tree of Bacellis
It's my home, my shelter and my roof
When I need to go back to my roots
To meet Bacellis and the dead ones that I miss
On my troubled days of New York
For crashed sweet nuts in my bag I check
With my finger I touch the exquisite silk
Of my Big Walnut Tree at home back
poem by Agim Bacelli
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Life- A Beautiful Thing
Life is a precious thing,
Life is a song, let us sing,
Life grows great only when it is well disciplined....
Life is a river,
Let it flow,
Life is gold,
Let it glow.....
Life is a treasure,
Lets find it,
Life is a rollercoaster,
Let us ride it.....
Life is game,
Lets play,
Live it all the way, every minute, everyday............
poem by Caleb Jones
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Life-The incredible thing
Life is a precious thing,
Life is a song, let us sing,
Life grows great only when it is well disciplined....
Life is a river, let it flow,
Life is gold, let it glow.....
Life is a treasure, lets find it,
Life is a rollercoaster, let us ride it.....
Life is game, lets play,
Live it all the way, every minute, everyday............
poem by Neha Aradhye
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Astrophel And Stella-First Song
Doubt you to whom my Muse these notes intendeth,
Which now my breast o'ercharged to music lendeth?
To you, to you, all song of praise is due;
Only in you my song begins and endeth.
Who hath the eyes which marry state with pleasure?
Who keeps the key of Nature's chiefest treasure?
To you, to you, all song of praise is due;
Only for you the heaven forgat all measure.
Who hath the lips where wit in fairness reigneth?
Who womankind at once both decks and staineth?
To you, to you, all song of praise is due;
Only by you Cupid his crown maintaineth.
Who hath the feet whose step all sweetness planteth?
Who else, for whom Fame worthy trumpets wanteth?
To you, to you, all song of praise is due;
Only to you her sceptre Venus granteth.
Who hath the breast whose milk doth passions nourish?
Whose grace is such that when it chides doth cherish?
To you, to you, all song of praise is due;
Only through you the tree of life doth flourish.
Who hath the hand which without stroke subdueth?
Who long-dead beauty with increase reneweth?
To you, to you, all song of praise is due;
Only at you all envy hopeless rueth.
Who hath the hair which, loosest, fastest tieth?
Who makes a man live then glad when he dieth?
To you, to you, all song of praise is due;
Only of you the flatterer never lieth.
Who hath the voice which soul from senses sunders?
Whose force but yours the bolts of beauty thunders?
To you, to you, all song of praise is due;
Only with you not miracles are wonders.
Doubt you to whom my Muse these notes intendeth,
Which now my breast o'ercharged to music lendeth?
To you, to you, all song of praise is due;
Only in you my song begins and endeth.
poem by Philip Sidney
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Coming Home April
Cold dark rain
Upon my face erase the tears
A biting wind whips
And blows away my fears
The lightning strikes
But I keep forging on
Cracking thunder seethes
But I don’t hear a sound
The shadows fall as
Darkness conquers everything
But I walk on and keep
Remembering
April’s song playing in my mind
Guided by a sliver of moonlight
Soon I know the moon will lose the fight
But April’s song will carry me
through the night
Or maybe not, the storm may take its toll
But I don’t care
To April I belong
poem by Sonya Florentino
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Song of April!
Is it that incomplete song
you sing for me April
or the soulful song of
a nightingale or a song
from the heart of Earth
A song long heard
which is lost in the waves
or one melody which melts
the rocks so hard you want
to sing for me April
A song I can sing from the
notes so perfect or the one
so loud to compete with
the wild clouds and forests
Is it that song incomplete April
you sing for me now...
April 17, 2009
poem by Rema Prasanaa
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Feeling The Season
Fat summer and small season,
Sounds of water make noise;
Close your eyes to the sound
Of innumerable utterances
From the branches of our trees
In a garden that understands
That life is more than just a season.
Fat villages walk along a path of disgust,
Dust is a yawn, dirt is a solution of course.
The sky begins to repel us with its fracture,
The bolts go highly rewarding with noise,
And noise with more violence, the solution.
Lightning is a solution, lightning bolts!
poem by Naveed Akram
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‘My sister – Life’s overflowing today’
My sister – Life’s overflowing today,
spring rain shattering itself like glass,
but people with monocles still complain,
and sting, politely, like snakes in the grass.
The elders have their logic of course,
certainly yours is foolish, no doubt:
that eyes and lawns glow lilac in storms,
and sweet perfume blows from the south.
That in May, when traveling you see
the timetable on the Kamyshin line,
the Bible’s penned no less magnificently,
while in reading it you’re mesmerised.
That sunset has only to show a village,
girls crowding the track as we flee,
and I find that it’s not my stop today,
the sun offering its sympathy.
With three splashes the bell swims by,
‘Sorry, not here’: its apology’s far.
Burning night seeps under the blind,
the steppe plunges, from step to star.
Winking, blinking, sweetly somewhere,
my love, a fata-morgana, sleeps yet,
while, like my heart, splashed on platforms there,
the carriage throws window-light over the steppe.
poem by Boris Pasternak
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